


Shattered Breaths

by dontshootmespence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Cunnilingus, F/M, Knotting, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Scenting, Sex, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2020, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence
Summary: After running into two alphas in the middle of the night, you, an Omega, find yourself falling for the elder Winchester brother, but for reasons unspoken, neither of you will act on it.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

Blood pulsed quickly through your veins as you ran through the desolate forest, low growls from behind pushing you forward at breakneck speed despite the fact that your muscles were on fire. So tired. You were so tired of this.

Moonlight streamed through the trees, lighting a sliver of a path between them that you took without hesitation. Each thud of your feet against the cold ground sent shockwaves through your body, muscles threatening to tear themselves from your bones. 

As the growling got closer, you felt a shiver run up your spine and prayed to anyone that was listening to give you a reprieve. Trees surrounded you, light barely hitting your sweat-slick skin through the canopy overhead. 

After locking yourself inside for days on end, you ventured outside to feel the sun on your skin. You knew you could be tracked by alphas, especially during your heat, but after days spent underground in an abandoned house, you’d been desperate - and sloppy. 

Glancing behind you, you saw a glint of the alpha werewolves’ eyes and pushed your body as hard as you were physically able, running straight into the arms of a tall, well-built man. “Where is it?” He asked, his hands wrapping around your wrists to steady you. 

“Them, there’s two of them!” You whispered.

“Stay between me and my brother.” Turning around, you saw an even taller man with his gun drawn and sandwiched yourselves between them. 

For a moment, the forest stood still, breath catching in the air as your eyes darted all around. Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the alphas that had been chasing you swiped at the taller of the two brothers, knocking him down and leaving you vulnerable. Turning, you saw the man you’d run into get tackled to the ground by the other alpha.

A gunshot went off, piercing the werewolf in the heart before it collapsed on top of the shorter brother. Quickly, both of you turned your attention to the other man, who was still pinned to the ground, fighting off swipe after swipe of the werewolf’s piercing claws. 

Before you could run to help him, the other man rushed past you, screaming his brother’s name.“Sam!” 

But the moment he made contact with the werewolf, the unnamed man was thrown backward into a tree.

These men had stopped to help you. You couldn’t turn away now. As your fangs descended, a chest-deep growl emanated from within you, talking the alpha off guard long enough for you to get him away from Sam. 

“Now you stand and fight? You stupid, omega bitch.” 

He pinned you up against a tree and ran his nose up the side of your neck, inhaling your scent. You felt your claws extend from your fingertips but before you could do anything the unidentified man called for him. “Hey!”

The minute the werewolf’s attention was diverted, the man fired a shot that landed directly between your assailant’s eyes. 

When he fell to the floor, you heard Sam call for his brother, Dean, who immediately ran toward him to make sure he was okay. Both had a few nicks and bruises, but they would survive. As soon as they assured the other was safe, their attention turned to you. 

“Stay away!” You growled, more for their benefit than yours. “I need a minute.”

They both held their hands up and tried to impress upon you that they weren’t about to hurt you. They’d stopped to help and put themselves in great danger to do so, so you trusted them, but you didn’t trust yourself. Whenever you let yourself tap into the feral side of yourself, you needed time to come down.

“You’re pretty tough for an omega,” Dean said, injecting a little levity into his voice. 

Eyes closed, you took deep breaths and noted the lightness in his tone. 

“When you’ve been on your own since you presented at 16, you kind of have no other choice.” With each breath, you managed to slow your heart rate and finally felt your claws retract. “You’re hunters.”

Sam nodded and stepped forward, catching you as your shaky legs gave way underneath you. “We are. You okay?”

“I will be. Thank you, Sam. Dean, thank you.”

The brothers guided you out of the forest and toward their car. “Nice ride,” you said, impressed. 

“This is my Baby,” Dean replied.

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed, opening the door for you. “Can we give you a ride somewhere?”

“We’re definitely giving you a ride somewhere,” Dean echoed. “I’m not about to leave an in-heat Omega out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.”

“Much appreciated, boys. But I’ve got nowhere to go.” More than 15 years had passed since you’d had a place to call home. 

“We don’t either.” Sam shrugged. “We travel all over to hunt. You have any money?”

Shaking your head, you retreated into yourself, realizing for the first time since you ran that you were well and truly fucked. “No, actually. I did. But I ran as soon as the werewolves spotted me.” 

Dean shot you a pitiful look. “Why don’t you stay with us?”

Running from two alphas into the arms of two others? Was that wise? Probably not. But you’d never been one for the wise. At least they were human, and hunters.

——-

Shortly after joining Sam and Dean on their continuous cross-country trek, you had to distance yourself from them, if only by a few motel rooms; your heat had triggered their ruts. Even though they were both amazing looking guys, you weren’t about to jeopardize your newfound camaraderie by begging one of them to fuck you senseless. No matter how good looking they were. Out of pure need to not screw up the first home you’d ever had, you made a habit of keeping to yourself during your heats and asked them to do the same whenever biology kicked into overdrive.

They taught you everything they knew. You’d come across werewolves and vamps, but that was about it, and there was so much more to this big scary world than you’d originally thought. Leviathans were apparently a thing, and they couldn’t die. At least they hadn’t figured out a way yet. Whenever the boys thought they’d killed one, the same one showed their ugly face again. None of their usual methods worked, so that was fun.

Sam schooled you on the lore, loading you up with facts about any and every creature he knew of whenever he could, much to Dean’s feigned dismay; you could tell in his eyes how proud he was of his brother. He also taught you self defense, which was harder than you thought. Sure, you’d defended yourself a thousand times before but that had been feral swiping and growling and hoping for the best, mixed with a healthy dose of luck. Sam was able to refine your ferocity into swift and pointed movements. After a while, you could even defend yourself against Sam.

Dean, on the other hand, taught you how to handle a knife and how to shoot. For some reason, learning to handle the knife had been easy, but shooting was another story all together. “This is fucking hopeless,” you muttered as your arm fell to your side in defeat.

“A’right, ‘mega,” he said, gathering his arms around you, his hands splaying over your own. A delicious shiver crawled up your spine at the sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue. Only Dean called you Omega; Sam just used your name. 

“Relax your shoulders,” he said, his deep, gravely voice rolling through you. It’s a good thing you weren’t in heat, you thought to yourself as you swallowed hard, because not jumping his bones was hard enough under the best of circumstances. “You want to keep your arms extended, but not locked.”

“K, Alpha. Now what? Because I suck at this.” 

He chuckled at your back and placed his hands on your hips, moving you into a good standing position. “Like this.” He tapped your leg with his left hand. He was

making this easy.

“Fake it ‘til you make it,” he continued, sending your mind in a completely different direction than the one he intended. Which really wasn’t all that hard to do considering your mind was in the gutter already. 

“You make it sound so simple,” you huffed. “You’ve been doing this since you were practically in diapers.” You lost yourself in the thought for a moment; he deserved so much more than that.

“You want to pretend that you know exactly what you’re doing, because it’ll feel more natural, and when it feels more natural, you’re in the better position to hit your target. Pick one.”

Picking one of his empty whiskey bottles that he’d placed in the middle of the area ahead, you leaned forward slightly. 

“What made you lean forward?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Instinct, I guess? I figure my body should be pitched forward a little bit to counteract the kick of the gun.”

“See, you’re a fuckin natural,” Dean said proudly. “Grab the grip tight and aim.”

When he let go of your arms, you felt cold and off your game again. You didn’t like to admit how much he steadied you. Something about Dean was comforting, like that first sip of whiskey - warm and inviting. You wavered and his arms returned to where they were. 

“You’re questioning your aim,” he said softly. “You had it. Have faith in yourself and follow through on your target.” Stepping back, he pulled out his other gun and hit the furthest bottle back without any problem. 

With a deep breath, you playfully growled at him, frustrated at how good he was and how good he looked doing it. “So all I need to do is fake it?”

“Yup. Keep in mind everything I just said, and fake it. Don’t go for the one in the back, go for that one,” he replied, pointing to a dark blue bottle toward the front, maybe 15 to 20 feet away from you. 

Turning your attention back toward the bottles, you shook out your nerves, breathed in through your nose, out through your mouth, and applied steady pressure on the trigger, feeling a bit of kickback as the bottle shattered into a thousand pieces. 

“See!” Dean said, smiling wide. “I told you!”

You put the gun down and danced around. Sure, you needed consistency, but at least you were making progress. “Now I just have to get my own gun. One similar to this. Because I don’t wanna get used to this and then have to handle something else entirely.”

Dean swallowed hard and picked the gun up, letting it slip through his fingers effortlessly as the grip was turned toward you. “Take this.”

“Dean, this is your gun. Your trusty gun. I couldn’t.” Besides Sam, Cas and Baby, this gun had to be one of the constants in his life.

Gripping the barrel firmly, he extended it toward you again. “Take this one.”

“Exactly, it’s never failed me. And if I can’t be there, it won’t fail you either.” His strong hand glided over yours and opened your palm before laying the gun down. “Besides Sam and Cas, you’re all I’ve got, ‘Mega.”

Pride gave way to sadness before her eyes. She could see the cogs turning, wanting to know more than anything what made him tick. When he closed the gap between you, you leaned into his embrace and closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

——-

“You okay?”

With a strained laugh, you grabbed Dean by the wrist and pushed him into the motel room. “Me? Am I okay? Dean, what the hell were you thinking?”

If he wasn’t already in pain you’d kick the ever-living shit out of him. As it was, you were about to rip him a new asshole. 

“He was -” 

“Sam, shut up!” You snapped before turning to Dean, whose mouth you knew was open despite having your back turned to him. “And you! Don’t even! I had that werewolf no problem, and because you had to come out and be Mr. Hero and shove me out of the way, you got hurt.”

Your heart was racing a mile a minute. When the wolf’s claws had slashed through the fabric of Dean’s henley and the skin underneath, your heart nearly stopped. His scream of agony still echoed through your head. 

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked, peeling back the blood-stained material of Dean’s shirt. Thankfully, the marks weren’t too deep, but he still scared you half to death.

“Yea, I’m fine. There anything I can do?”

“No, I’ve got this,” you replied. “We have no food and he’s not about to go grab a meal like this though.”

Sam nodded in understanding and ducked out of the motel room quickly. You made a mental note to apologize for snapping at him.

“Can I talk?” Dean asked, testing where you were on the anger scale. 

Huffing, you poured some alcohol onto a rag to clean out his wounds. “Depends. You plan on making excuses for getting yourself hurt? Or do you plan on apologizing? Because I’ll only accept one of those as a reason to open your mouth.”

With pursed lips, he mumbled. “You’re a little bossy, Omega.”

“Get used to it. What the hell were you thinking?” Crouching before him, you wiped his wounds clean as he hissed at the pain. 

Dean’s hand slipped underneath your chin, tipping your head up so you’d look at him. “I saw you when we first met; scared. I saw your death flash before my eyes, so I jumped without thinking.” 

His thumb caressed the side of your cheek. Your instinct was to lean into it, but you were so angry with him. “Fuckin’ hell, Dean. That’s the problem. Fucking think!”

He flinched at your outburst. You were so mad. But it was more than that. “Dean, I’m scared every time we go out. I’m scared of monsters. I’m scared of alphas that don’t know how to take no for an answer. I’m always scared. But I do shit anyway because it’s either do something or die and I really don’t feel like dying. D’ya know what scares me more than anything though?”

When he shook his head, you tried to speak, but felt the words catch in your throat. Your lip began to tremble, all of the fear and adrenaline finally steadying out. “Losing you.”

Swallowing back the bile rising in your throat, you continued. “I ran from my father, an abusive alpha. I was so afraid of being hurt again that I stayed away from anyone and everyone. Until I ran into you. Even when I lived with my father, I never really had a home. And now I do,” you said softly, a tear falling down your cheek. “Do you know what it would do to me to lose you? Not only to lose you, but realize I lost you because of me?”

“I don’t wanna die, but if I die protecting you; I’ll consider it a good death,” he replied. “But I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you to handle it. Because you could’ve and you were going to. I just…I wasn’t thinking.”

Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you bandaged up Dean’s wounds and sat on the crappy motel bed beside him. “Start thinking,” you commanded, your hand cradling the back of his neck. 

Without any thought for the consequences or the implications, you pressed your lips to his, memorizing the scent of musk and evergreen that floated off his body. He smelled like home. Wherever he was, you were home. “Please, start thinking. Don’t make me lose you, Alpha.”

Dean nuzzled his forehead into yours and whispered. “I’m sorry, ‘Mega.”

——-

Whenever you weren’t hunting or isolating yourselves during heats and ruts, you, Dean and Sam indulged in cheap booze, cheaper food and bad movies. “If I don’t get food, I might kill one of you.”

Dean popped up from his seat like he’d just been yelled at and forced to go to his room. “I’ll grab some then,” he laughed, an easy-going smile dancing across his face. 

Smiling excitedly, you clasped your hands together and brought them up by the side of your face. “Bacon cheeseburger and fries, please. And pie?”

“What kind?”

“Whatever you get.”

“What makes you think I’m getting pie?”

“Your name is Dean.”

“Touche, ‘Mega,” he said with a laugh. Sam ordered a wildly boring salad with a fruit cup for dessert. You could swear it actually pained Dean to hear such an order. “I’ll be back in 30.”

As he closed the door, you ran into the bathroom and changed into your pajamas before picking out your movie for the night on one of the on-demand channels. “This cool, Sam? The Gingerbread Man starring Gary Busey.”

Looking up, he nodded quickly, clearly not registering what you’d just said, as you were sure he’d have some snarky remark. “Yea, that’s fine by me. Y/N, can I ask you a question?”

You bristled at the frankness in his voice. “Sure, Sam. What is it?”

A little chuckle put you more at ease as he spoke. “Why don’t you and Dean just fuck already?”

A very undignified snort escaped you. It made no sense to try and dissuade him of his opinion. It was obvious you and Dean liked each other, wanted each other. “It’s too complicated, Sam.”

He shot you an ‘are-you-serious’ look, which spurred you on. “Dean wouldn’t want a needy Omega at home that he felt beholden too. Plus, I’m not just gonna sit home and raise pups, as much as I’d like them. I need an identity outside of that. And that would come with it’s own host of issues, because I’m assuming he would be ‘just a tad’ overprotective. And-”

“As opposed to how he already is,” Sam interjected, leaning forward to place his head in his propped up hands. “But go on.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Sam. What we have here is good. The three of us. I have a home. If something were to fuck that up by, like oh, I don’t know, fucking Dean and it not working out? I would lose the only home I’ve ever really known. As much as I love Dean, and you know I do, I’m too afraid to risk it.”

Sam looked at you sadly, hoping that maybe you’d all met in a different life. “I understand that. More than you know.”

A comfortable silence hung between you for a moment, and you thought that was the end of it. “Dean loves you, too, you know? If anyone could get my brother to settle down and have pups, it’d be you. Yea, he’d be an overprotective pain-in-the-ass, but he knows he can’t control you. I’m not saying you have to say anything to him. But I think you should. I think you guys are more on the same page than you think.”

For a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off into thoughts of what a life with Dean might be like. Kickass hunters with a family of pups to raise. Happy. Together. It made your heart swell, but then you saw the picture shatter before your eyes and the realization hit you like a truck. The reason you were too afraid to pursue things with Dean wasn’t because it could screw up the home you’d managed to find. In this life, a hunter’s life, you rarely got a happy ending, and if you lost Dean after being claimed by him? The man you loved more than anything?

There would be no coming back from that.

You’d shatter.

——

After your brief fast food, crappy B-movie respite, you finally formulated a decent enough plan to kill Dick Roman. If by formulated, you mean Sam and Dean trusting Crowley, relying on the new and improved bee-loving Castiel, all while watching the boys crumble at the loss of Bobby for a second time, then yes, a plan had been formulated. “This is so, so very stupid,” you muttered. “A bone from a righteous nun bathed in the blood of an angel, head Daddy vamp, and possibly Crowley if he didn’t fuck us royally, and we’re about to walk right in.”

“You got a better idea?” Dean asked. 

“Not a one. Ready to go?”

“That’s my girl.”

Speeding down the highway, you chuckled to yourself at the stupidity of this. Dean, Sam, Cas, Ghost Bobby, even Meg had said you could sit this one out, but you weren’t about to let the boys go in by themselves. Maybe you couldn’t do anything that they wouldn’t have already tried. But if they were gonna die, you were gonna bite the bullet with them. You wouldn’t be left alone again.

You split up into teams of two. Dean needed Cas to identify the real, fake Dick, which left you and Sam to search for Kevin and get the hell out of there, all while using Meg as a distraction. Each footstep felt like a bomb going off underneath your feet; you were bound to get caught. But as you snuck through hallway after sanitized, boring-ass hallway, picking the locks of every door in your wake, you finally found Kevin. Who, of course, had to throw another wrench in the already shaky, we’re-absolutely-gonna-get-ourselves-killed plan. 

“We have to blow up the lab,” Kevin said desperately, looking every inch a scared child making the decisions of a man.

More than anything, you and Sam wanted to get him out, but you knew he was right. With enough Borax on you to clean the entirety of insert-large-monument-of–choice-here, you doused every leviathan in your path before finally making it to the lab in one piece, if slightly covered in leviathan goo.

With the traps set, you began the search for Dean, Cas and Dick, only to find the head leviathan with the bone sticking through his throat. A wretched sound emanated from the slimy creature’s throat before his limbs began to twitch. “We need to go!” You screamed over the shockwaves building in the small room. “Guys, we have to go now!”

But before they had even taken a step, Dick Roman exploded, flinging his remnants all over the room, and when you could finally see again, Cas and Dean were gone. Sam spun toward you, eyes darting around the room, mouth agape.

“Where are they? You cried, grasping Sam’s jacket in your hands. “What happened to them?”

“I-I-”

“Hello, Sam. Y/N,” Crowley touted upon his entrance.

Sam held you back as you lunged toward the demon without a care for what he might do to you. “What happened to Dean? Where is Cas?”

With a click of his fingers, two of his henchmen had Kevin in their grasp. And with the next, they were gone.

“That bone had a bit of a kick,” he replied with a sickly smug smile on his face. “God weapons often do. Looks like you two are well and truly alone.”

Another snap and Crowley was gone. 

Dean was gone.

“We have to find Dean,” you said meekly, numbness lapping at your toes like a wave on the shore. 

Off in the distance, other Leviathan approached. 

“We have to get out of here,” Sam said. 

But you couldn’t move. Your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and a black hole of despair that was devouring you from the inside out. “We have to find Dean,” you whispered.

“We have to go!” Sam picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. 

In your grief, you tried to fight him off - you begged him to put you down and go find Dean and Cas, but he refused. “I’m not leaving!” You punched his back with your fist with every ounce of strength you had, screaming until your throat hurt.

“I’m not letting you die, too,” he said, voice ragged as he carried you through the hallways.

“Die too.” The words rolled through your mind like a bullet. “He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead.”

Sam threw you into the Impala and slipped the key into the starter, panicking when the engine sputtered to life. As it finally kicked into drive, the monstrous squealing of the Impala’s damaged engine was drowned out by the screech of your anguished cries.

—–

You were caged. 

Within these walls. Within this world. Within your skin.

As you trembled, the overwhelming ache between your thighs spread outward to your entire body. You sobbed into the mattress. After losing Dean, you’d done anything and everything you could think of to find him, but to no avail. And then your heat hit. 

Despite the medication that Sam had found to help you through them, the stress and desolate sadness somehow made this heat even worse. Pain overwhelmed you, every nerve on fire, boiling like lava. You tried everything to alleviate the pain, even touching yourself in the hopes that an orgasm would lessen the effects, but it did nothing physically, leaving you emotionally worse for the wear. 

When your hands slipped across your sweat-slick, nerve-wracked skin you thought of Dean. The way he made you laugh. The way he smiled when he watched terrible horror movies. The way his green eyes saw through your tough exterior into the softness beneath. The way his muscled arms gathered around you, allowing you to find a home in the most unlikely of places. In that moment, there was a brief respite, your heart lightening every so slightly at the thought of home, only to be jerked back to reality when you realized he was gone. All you wanted was for the pain to subside. To feel okay again.

A heavy knock on the motel room door alerted you to Sam’s presence. “Y/N, it’s me. I have more medication and some food for you.” 

Grunting in agony, you called for him to come in, noticing the softness in his eyes as he touched your head with the back of his hand. ‘I’m fine, Sam. You can just leave the stuff on the table.”

“You’re burning up,” he said, running to the bathroom to grab some water so that you could take your pills.

He placed the pills into your quaking hands and watched you take them, your eyes numb and forward-facing. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I can’t do this,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“The pain!” You snapped through clenched teeth. “It’s even worse now, I can’t, I-” Lifting your head, you saw the sorrow in your soul reflected in his eyes. “Sam, help me. Please.”

He knew what you were asking and he shook his head, standing up quickly from his place at your side and pacing across the room. “No, Y/N, I can’t.”

With every ounce of strength you had, you crawled to the end of the bed, begging. “Sam, this pain is overwhelming. I don’t trust anyone else, and I can’t do this anymore. I trust you. Please, Sam. Please.”

You gasped as Sam wrapped his arms around you, his cock straining against his jeans. 

“You’re Dean’s,” he said matter-of-factly, almost more for himself than for you. “I can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” you said as you sobbed into his chest. You repeat yourself over and over again, hoping it would absolve you of the overwhelming guilt that blanketed you - mind, body and soul. 

—-

After you threw yourself at Sam, he started distancing himself. Of course he came to check on you multiple times a week, he helped you find a legitimate job, ensured you had enough food and money and medication to survive your heightened heats, but that was it. Whether it was because of what you’d done or how he felt about you, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t the strength or desire to ask, figuring it didn’t truly matter either way. 

Each day was an exercise in strength, with you going through the motions despite the desire to let go. A year passed.

Then one morning, you woke up with the knowledge that your heat was, in fact, here again. Even though it continued to come every three months as it always had, you could swear you were constantly in the throes of it. Your body hurt, muscles heavy, nerves always on fire to some degree. It never ended. Nor did your thoughts of Dean. Essentially, you remained because you were too scared to die. That and hope. There was a sliver of it still lingering, even though its presence tore you to shreds day in and day out. 

At your desk job, you clamped your legs together, wishing that someone out there could satiate your hunger. The medication had done a bit to tamp down your physical pain, enough where you could work without much interruption, but the sexual aspect of your heat still remained in full force. 

You made it through another day and began to walk back to your motel room, but it was just a room. Home had evaporated when Dean had been taken from you. As you walked down the street, passing playing children and the occasional speeding car, you inhaled the cool air in the hopes that it would refresh you - bring you back to the land of the living - only to be hit with the scent of musk and evergreen.

A warmth spread over you and a smile returned to your face for the first time in months. It smelled so much like Dean, like being wrapped in his arms all those years ago when he first taught you how to shoot. The feeling of peace quickly left you and you cursed the gods for their inequity, tears running down your cheeks as you stormed through your motel room door. 

Collapsing into the bed, you pulled the matted pillow toward your head and sunk into the overly-used mattress, praying that the memory of the scent would stop torturing you when you awoke next. 

—–

Hours later, as the sun began to set, varying hues of pink and orange dabbling the dusky sky, you woke to the comforting yet torturing scent. But you were all cried out and instead attempted to move through it, as you had with most things for the past year. 

A knock on the door startled you. For a moment, you contemplated not answering. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to Sam right now. You’d text him later to let him know you were okay. With another thud, you swung the door open, ready to yell. “Dean?” You cracked. “Am I alive? Did I die in my sleep?”

Tired eyes smiled at you, happiness overtaking the misery that had filled them for so long. “You’re alive. It’s me, ‘Mega.”

“How?” 

“Do you really want to know right now?”

With a disbelieving chuckle, you replied. “No.” 

Reaching out, you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him toward you, lips hungrily finding his without hesitation or thought. He sunk into your kiss, practically collapsing into you as he crossed the threshold into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. “‘Mega, I need you.”

In an instant, you were home again, arching into his hurried kisses. Frantic hands grabbed at the hem of your t-shirt and slipped it over your head before snaking his fingers underneath the straps of your bra. 

“You have me, Alpha.”

You jumped into his embrace and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling at the material of his shirt like someone starved of all sustenance. When your fingers found his muscled chest, you moaned at the feel of him underneath your fingertips. He’d been gone for more than a year, but here he was, in the flesh; he was real. 

Dean walked you toward the bed and tripped into it, falling onto the mattress with you pinned beneath him. He let out a breathy laugh and collapsed into the side of the bed, kneeling before you as he peeled your pants and panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “You were my last thought before closing my eyes,” he said, biting and sucking patches on your inner thighs. “My first thought in the morning. You kept me going, ‘Mega.”

Whining, you bucked up into his mouth and grasped his hair, pulling him closer to your heated sex. With every swipe of his tongue up your slit, you felt yourself melt into his embrace - a stillness overcoming you despite your desperation for his touch. “Alpha,” you breathed.

You shimmied yourself off the bed before him. “Need your knot. Need to taste you.” 

“Oh fuck,” he choked out as you licked your lips and slipped them over his swollen cock. “‘Mega, ‘M, not-” He braced himself, his grip white-hot against the sheets as he towered over you.

“Don’t care.” You hastily tugged his jeans and boxers down just far enough to grab his cock. Hungrily, you slid your hands up and down in tandem with your mouth. Each pass left trails of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor. But you didn’t care. Looking up, you saw Dean at peace for the first time in years, mouth agape, muscles taut, unthinking. 

When you moaned around his length and reached your hand between your legs, he couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted you up onto the bed and crawled up the length of your body, laying hungry open-mouthed kisses along your pliant flesh as he kicked off the remainder of his clothing. You managed to lift your head to find his mouth again, whimpering at the sight of the dark flesh of his knot. How he came back, what he did when he was gone, what you’d gone through in his absence, none of it mattered - not when it came down to it. He was yours and you were his, scars and all. 

Climbing onto the bed, he moved your head toward the headboard and up against the pillow, placing his cock at your entrance before effortlessly slipping inside. 

“Fuck, Alpha. I need you. Need you to knot me.”

Dean chokes out an incoherent word or two, groaning as he hastily slides his hand into your hair. Teeth scrape along the side of your neck as he pumps into you, his knot swelling with each thrust. There’s no grace in either of your movements as he fucks into you, bucking into each other as if your lives depend on it. 

As his knot rolled into you, connecting you both, you cried out and bit down on his shoulder, only to scream out again when his teeth found a spot on your neck just below your ear. Whenever you’d heard of omegas and their alphas before, about the connection between them and the wholeness they felt being claimed, you’d never understood it - but you did now. 

Every atom in your body felt connected with his. It was deeper than anything you’d ever felt before. “Alpha!” You cried into his waiting mouth. 

Thick, hot streams of come filled your insides as he trembled above you, lips finding yours in a desperate attempt to make this last forever. To stay in this moment.

When his eyes found yours, he let out a strangled laugh, thumb rubbing over the spot where he’d claimed you. “‘Mega, I’m not the same man I was.” Already, he was trying to run. But you wouldn’t allow it.

“I know,” you said softly before kissing his forehead. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Where were you? What happened?”

He fell to your side and gathered you close, slipping himself back into your slick heat, needing the closeness. To stay here for just a moment more. Relaxing your head against his chest, you listened as he told you what happened after Dick Roman’s death. Strained words and shattered breaths made you realize he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he was saying what he could, and for now, that was enough.

Purgatory. He was in Purgatory. Surrounded by monsters every day.

“Thing is…” He started, trailing off almost immediately.

“What is it?” You asked, clenching your walls around his cock. Anything to take his mind off the horrors he’d witnessed. “Dean, you can tell me.”

“Thing is, there was a peace in it. Fighting day in and day out. The routine of it. I-I liked it. The killing. What does that make me?” 

You tipped your head up to kiss the underside of his chin, finding the salty taste of his tears. “It makes you human. It makes you a hunter, Alpha.” Dean dipped his head to kiss the mark he’d given you, massaging your breasts as you spoke. “There is something I want you to know though.”

“What is it?” He asked. 

“After you died, I thought you were gone forever. And the stress of it all made my heats so much worse than they ever had been. And I-” You broke, a sob bubbling in your throat.

“It’s okay, ‘Mega. I promise, it’s okay.”

“Nothing happened between us, but I threw myself at Sam. It’s been eating at me ever since it happened. I love Sam, but I love him like my brother and I never wanted it to happen. He turned me down, because I’ve always been yours,” you said quickly, trying to get it all out and breathe at the same time. “I was just so desperate and so alone and-” 

Grasping your chin, Dean turned your head toward his and cut you off with a searing kiss. “We have some guilt to deal with, I guess,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He slid his hands down your arms, fingers entwined with yours. “Together?”

Whisper soft, you replied. “Together.”


	2. Bathed In Evergreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filled with anxiety, the reader asks Dean to snuggle in bed as she is calmed by his scent. 
> 
> Unofficial follow-up to Shattered Breaths.

Each breath felt like a monumental task. Breathe in. Breathe out. It was supposed to be easy, involuntary even, but as you inhaled through your nose and out through your mouth it seemed as through you could do nothing but for fear of your lungs exploding.

Dean walked back into your bedroom, his eyes going wide with fear in an instant. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Bad dream,” you replied, your voice shaky. “I saw the werewolf that attacked you weeks ago and its claws just ripped through your heart and you were bleeding out in my hands and-”

“Breathe, ’Mega,” he instructed, sitting at your side and wrapping his arms around you. “In and out. I’m here. I’m safe.”

Dean ran his calloused hands over your arms, but it was doing little to extinguish the all-too-real possibility playing before your eyes. “Alpha, I can’t lose you. I can’t. Not now that we finally decided to stop fucking around.”

“Actually, I think we decided to fuck around,” he said, a hint of a smile in his reply. When you curled against him, he continued. “You’re not gonna lose me, ‘Mega. I’m too stubborn for that.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” You mumbled against his chest and allowed yourself to smile, hoping that if you faked it for long enough the rapid beating in your chest would steady out. “We don’t have a case, do we?”

“No. S’quiet out there today.”

Taking another deep breath, you inhaled Dean’s scent, the thick musk and pleasing scent of pine filling your nostrils. “Can we snuggle all day and do nothing? Your scent calms me down.”

“Really?” He asked surprised. 

“Yea, it means I’m home.” You tipped your head up to graze your lips against the underside of his chin, relishing the feel of his day-old stubble under your fingertips. “Can we?”

“As you wish,” he said genuinely, a chuckle escaping him as he continued. “You don’t hafta twist my arm.”

“Did you just Princess Bride me?”

“I did. You wanna do somethin about it?”

“I think I wanna kiss you.” 

Leaning down, Dean ran his tongue over your bottom lip, biting down gently before he took your mouth in a heated kiss that left little doubt that you were home. “How about I go get us some breakfast, some coffee? Then we can watch Princess Bride and anything else you feel like watching.”

“Can we take a hard left turn from the awesomeness that is The Princess Bride and watch one of the worst horror movies ever made?”

“You mean Troll 2?” Dean asked.

You knelt up on the bed and kissed him. “See, this is why I love you. Because you knew I was thinking of Troll 2.”

“That the only reason you love me?” He smiled. Ever since you’d given up dancing around your feelings for each other, Dean’s smile had been making more frequent appearances.

Shrugging, you admitted. “Yup, the only reason. It’s not like I feel like I’m home when I’m with you.”

Apparently, Dean left the door cracked open before, and Sam passed at just the right moment. “For a man who isn’t into chick-flick moments, your life is filled with them now.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

You giggled as Dean stormed passed him to get food and Sam peeked his head in. “You two have fun. But not too much fun.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m right next door.”

“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out as Sam closed the door, leaving you to hold on to Dean’s scent as it dissipated from the room. As it left, your nightmare came barreling back to the forefront of your mind, making your chest tight all over again.

In and out. In and out. 

Closing your eyes, you waited for Dean to return, focusing solely on breathing. “Still?” He asked, cups of coffee in hand.

“Yea, you left and I pictured it again.”

He gave you a peck on the lips before running, almost comically, back to the kitchen to grab your food. “No more picturing bad shit, ‘Mega. It’s just you, me, Princess bride and the breakfast of champions.”

As he slipped back under the covers, he pulled you close, passing you a plate of waffles and bacon, which you inhaled. “A woman after my own heart.”

“You know it, Alpha. If there’s no bacon, life just ain’t worth livin.”

After finishing breakfast, you leaned into your Alpha and breathed him in, listening only to the steady beating of his heart and The Princess Bride, which you could probably recite by heart at this point. “You okay?” He asked.

“Better.” As long as you were bathed in evergreen and the heady scent of him, you would be.


End file.
